


All We Do Is Drive

by thesoundofnat



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 22:58:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5803633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesoundofnat/pseuds/thesoundofnat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something flashed in Tony’s eyes. “I’m not gonna drive.”</p>
<p>Steve blinked. “Then who is?”</p>
<p>“You, of course.”</p>
<p>“I don’t wanna drive.”</p>
<p>“But you love driving.”</p>
<p>“Well, so do you!”</p>
<p>(Or, Steve and Tony are both tired and argue over who gets to drive home. In the end Steve chugs a bottle of wine and Tony gets pissed at him.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All We Do Is Drive

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a text post I saw on tumblr: http://scientifrick.tumblr.com/post/136402393682/my-uncle-and-aunt-were-arguing-over-who-had-to
> 
> Also posted on my tumblr thesoundofnat.tumblr.com

Steve was generally not opposed to driving. In fact he was quite fond of it. To be so in control was freeing, and even the occasional reminder that disaster could be seconds away while on the road didn’t tend to change his feelings. When he drove he was free and in control and the only one who had the power to steer the vehicle wherever he wanted it to go.

But he despised driving when he was tired. All that control vanished completely out of sight, and the merest touch to the steering wheel made his fingers burn. When he was stuck in that limited space while his head felt heavier than the responsibility that was bestowed upon him as he gathered every single passenger’s life in his exhausted arms, he felt like he was suffocating.

When he decided to learn how to drive he’d been in the 21st century for about a year. And what a messy year it had been. It was only when Tony had described how his second favorite way of transportation was driving, with the Iron Man suit being the first. Though Tony had also expressed his love of being a mere passenger as well, Steve had become obsessed with the idea of driving. Hence, he was quick to get his license. He now rarely went anywhere without driving, unless Fury forced him on a plane. To be honest Steve had volunteered to drive to far off places as well, but no one would let him because “you’re literally needed right now, Rogers, you don’t have days to get there”.

But even driving became less fun when you wished you could just disappear. He’d gotten back from a mission just half an hour before he’d been dragged along to a party of some sorts that the Avengers had had to attend. Whatever had happened on that mission it had messed with his head rather properly. He felt off; raw. Combine that with endless mingling and smiles faker than reality TV and Steve was completely out of it. He couldn’t fathom how Tony could live like this all the time.

He glanced at his boyfriend; observing the way he talked to some unknown man with ease. His posture screamed confidence; all squared shoulders and straight back. But Steve noticed the slight strain to his grin. He could see the way Tony’s eyes would sweep around the room anxiously when he thought no one was looking. He wanted to get out of here just as badly as Steve did.

Steve excused himself as politely as he could while literally interrupting the person he’d been talking to - he would probably regret that later - and steered his steps to where Tony was standing. His stoic stance made Steve wince; he was probably aching all over right now.

“Steve!” Tony exclaimed, a little too eagerly. “Have you met Lance? He owns the- what was it that you owned again?”

Steve shook the man’s hand, ignoring him as he tried to explain his field of profession. “It’s nice to meet you. Do you mind if I steal Mr Stark away for a second?” He didn’t wait for a reply as he grabbed Tony’s arm and all but dragged him away. Not that Tony was making much of a struggle to stay.

“I could kiss you,” Tony said once they were far far away from Lance.

“I sure hope so, but maybe now is not the right time.”

Tony rolled his eyes half-heartedly. “That guy has been pestering me all night. I was this close to committing a crime.”

Steve let out a laugh. “Good thing I saved you then. Not quite sure how you would look behind bars.”

“First of all, I would look fabulous,” Tony replied, tilting his head at him. “Second,  I would only be behind bars for like two seconds.”

“True. But still, you owe me.” Steve couldn’t help the fond smile that only occurred when Tony was around from spreading over his lips. He was rewarded with an equally lovestruck grin back, and he knew it was time to leave.

“I’m tired,” he said, trying hard to keep the whine out of his voice. “Let’s go home.”

Tony hummed, taking a step closer to him as his eyes scanned the room. “It is pretty late. I don’t think they would mind it if we slipped away.”

Steve felt a wave of contentment hit him forcefully. “Oh thank god.” He reached into his pocket and fished out the keys. “Go get the car and I’ll wait for you outside.”

Something flashed in Tony’s eyes. “I’m not gonna drive.”

Steve blinked. “Then who is?”

“You, of course.”

“I don’t wanna drive.”

“But you love driving.”

“Well, so do you!”

Tony scoffed. “Not as much as you. Besides, I’m not feeling like driving tonight. I’m tired.”

“I’m literally falling asleep where I’m standing,” Steve spat back, knowing perfectly well that it was only partly true.

Tony frowned. “You drove us here.”

“Because you asked me to.”

“Well, now I’m asking you to drive us home.”

“It’s your turn.”

“Honey, I’ve lost count on how many times you take the wheel from me. We’re not going down that route.”

They glared mildly at each other for a few seconds; not enough to cause any real hostility, but enough to know that they weren’t the best of friends in that moment. The people closest to them could sense the faint tension in the air and instinctively backed away.

“Look,” Steve finally said with a sigh; his head becoming heavier with each breath. “Why don’t you just call Happy? We can come back for the car tomorrow.”

“I gave Happy the week off,” Tony replied, trying way too hard to sound nonchalant. “Don’t look at me like that. You know he deserves some time away. Besides, you’ve been so obsessed with driving that I didn’t think he would be needed.”

Steve glanced at the ceiling briefly before locking his eyes on Tony’s face. “Have you been drinking?”

Tony looked tired now. “You know I haven’t,” he said, his voice low.

“Well.” Steve could feel the confusion radiate from his boyfriend when he suddenly lunged toward a table and grabbed a bottle that had been a constant presence in the corner of his eye ever since he’d pulled Tony to this distant corner of the room. With quick motions and without even breaking a sweat Steve uncorked it and started chugging the wine as if his life depended on it. Once he’d replaced the bottle on the table and ignored all the stares he fixed his gaze on Tony again and said, “I have.”

Tony was furious with him, and he didn’t stop fuming until they’d reached the Stark Tower and they’d gotten separated when Tony locked himself in the bathroom to take a shower that Steve wasn’t invited to because “you fucking suck, Steve”. Steve only felt a little bad as he changed out of his clothes and crawled under the covers to wait for him.

When Tony returned, his hair wet and upper body bare, he’d visibly calmed down, and he got into bed and cuddled up to Steve’s side with sleepy sigh.

“You play dirty,” he told him. “I can’t say I’m not impressed.”

Steve shot him a smirk. “I learned from the best.”

Tony snorted. “You mean Barton, right?”

Steve shook his head but didn’t say anything. They stayed like that for a moment; holding onto each other as the city of New York became even more alive outside. Steve had never felt older than he did right now, but he didn’t mind it at all.

“Tony,” he mumbled, not certain if he was still awake.

“Hm?” Tony had his eyes closed, but Steve could feel his attention peaking.

“You do know I can’t get drunk, right?”

Tony didn’t move. Steve could almost hear him put the pieces together. “Oh, you little shit.”

Steve started laughing instinctively as Tony rose to life and pounced on him; straddling his hips with the air of someone who’d done this countless of times before.

“You suck.” Tony emphasized his words with a poke to Steve’s chest. “You suck.” Poke to his ribs. “You suck.” Poke to his stomach.

Steve laughed at the tickling sensation, but Tony, probably due to exhaustion, decided not to proceed after that and just sat pouting on Steve’s hips.

“Are you mad?” Steve asked, not being able to keep his teasing tone at bay.

“I’m pissed,” Tony corrected. “But I also love you too much to be pissed for longer than five seconds.”

The corners of Steve’s lips tugged upwards. “I love you, too.”

“If you loved me you wouldn’t have lied,” Tony reminded him, but the heat was completely gone by now.

“Oh, but I didn’t lie, babe. I just said that I had been drinking. It’s not my fault you assumed things.”

Tony was visibly torn between being angry and impressed, and in the end he just rolled off of Steve again with a loud exhale.

“You’re making us breakfast tomorrow,” Tony said, pointing a finger at him.

Steve grinned. “Yes, sir.”

“And you’re driving us home next time we’re at a party.”

“But what if I’m really tired? You’re the one who said not to drive when you’re tired.”

Tony side eyed him. “I was tired tonight, too.”

Steve quickly pressed a kiss to his temple. “Love you. Goodnight.”

Tony didn’t say anything for a few seconds, but eventually scooted closer so that he was curled up at his side again. “You still suck.”

“You love it.”

“I do.”

“Thank you for being my chauffeur.”

“Don’t push it.”


End file.
